OK, I admit it

I am a mere mortal....

....and I am having 'back pains'.  [snare drum rim shot, cymbal]

At least, that is what the doctor (who looked suspiciously like a re-animated Walter Matthau) kept saying....

....since I am unemployed....

and have no insurance....

and therefore am beyond the scope of examining (beyond listening to my lungs, that is).

He was a frumpish, Oscar Madison clone.  The whole look - disheveled, unkempt, basset hound-faced, slack jawed.  Hmmm.  Perhaps that was a bit redundant, but he was so underwhelming in his medical presentation.  In fact, the only missing prop was the hallmark well-chewed cigar hanging from his mouth.

Dr. Mensch shuffled into the exam room a full hour after my own arrival from the exterior waiting room, muttered a well-used salutation which sounded no less like Tim Conway's "Old Man", and crossed the room to sit at the little area of counter used as a desk.  He had carried with him a laptop (along with a small mound of familiar-looking forms) and spent the first several minutes pecking and staring at it.

After an eternal silence, punctuated haltingly by the index finger of his left hand, he exhaled like a deflating balloon and abruptly grabbed up the pages of paperwork.  It was no less the dossier I had filled out and turned in from the waiting room, so no wonder it all looked familiar.  Dr. Mensch shuffled to the third page. A moment later he triumphantly announced, "Oh, that explains it!"

He apparently had been looking for my medical history in some online file, but failing locating my name, he decided to look at the provided real file.  "This is your first time here?"

The actual question on the form asks, "Is this your first visit to this office?"  I had checked the "yes" spot.  Silly me.

"Yes," I answered, still having no eye contact.  This was a virtual conversation.

From there, we had the same conversation I had had with the young woman who took my vitals (and made notes in what I assumed was my chart). Why was I there, what did I want to accomplish, etc.  In short I wanted to rule out anything scary, and move on to how to fix the sudden excruciating pain I was in.  He listened to my lungs.  He was intrigued.  He asked questions about my lungs - had I just gotten over being sick; do I cough up sputum; oh, you have asthma?

Cough.  Inhale deeply, cough.  Repeat.  Cough again.

Dr. Mensch asked me to locate my pain.  I reached for it, identifying its location precisely, and he 'poked' a little lower - by about 3-4 inches.  I indicated the source of my extreme discomfort was up where my hand was on my mid-back/upper abdomen.  He suggested perhaps it was kidney-related.  He sat back down and hunt-and-pecked.  Left-handed.  Using one finger.

But what about my back?  Would this be the source of my discomfort, from my kidneys to my rib cage?

Well, without insurance there isn't anything that can be done.  No tests, no xrays, no nothing.

But........he did have me urinate in a cup to rule out blood in the urine.

Wheeeeeeee.

As though he were trying to convince himself more than me, he asked no less than three times - as he exited the room like a sneak-thief - does you back hurt all of the time?  Does it hurt if you lay down or stand up?  And on and on - each time declaring blandly, "It's your back."  "You've hurt your back."  "I think it's your back."

But HOW?!?  If I wasn't doing anything more than standing - as I was doing just prior to the moment in time when it began hurting like a b*tch, for no reason - how do I prevent it from happening again, should this exquisite pain decide to take a vacation and completely subside?

Oh. My. Lanta!  Make it stop.

I admit it - it hurts.  But I've been 'there' and I've done 'that'.  So, can this move on to someone else now, please?